Interview with the Daredevil

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Interview with the Daredevil Page 15

by Nicola Marsh


  She shot him a quick glance tinged with humour and truth, and he exhaled in relief, unaware he’d been holding his breath.

  ‘There’s been a lot of supposition about my new relationship. Well, I can clear up any misconceptions right now. No, I’m not taking up motor-cross or high wire or bungee jumping, God forbid.’

  Uneasy laughter rippled through the room.

  ‘I’m here to be with the man I love.’

  Roman’s head snapped up as her gaze zeroed in on him and this time he didn’t need to analyse anything, her love for him blazing true, turning her eyes radiant blue.

  There wasn’t a single hoot or catcall or whistle to break the expectant silence.

  ‘Yes, I’m in a relationship with Roman Gianakis, the world’s craziest extreme sports fanatic. Yes, I’ll be based alongside him, wherever in the world that may be. Yes, I’ve left the finance world behind and have just accepted a new position as a freelance writer for Globetrotter, so…’

  Milking the crowd like a pro, she waited till absolute silence reigned before continuing, ‘Now you know the latest, people, I want no more scuttle-butt or innuendos, no more free licence to invent what you don’t know, just the plain facts.’

  She held up a hand to silence the odd disgruntled twitter.

  ‘I know I’ve been reserved in the past and that hasn’t helped my cause. You wanted answers to questions and I deferred ninety-nine per cent of the time. I let my dad and my ex do all the talking for me and you shot me down because of it. Not any more. I’ll be more accessible, but only if you respect my privacy and my relationship. Besides, I’m willing to work with you on a more open basis now I’m practically one of you.’

  More laughter. Not that he heard much of it. His heart was pounding so damn loud he could hardly hear a thing over its echo in his ears.

  ‘And yes, I promise to give you exclusive updates on our relationship and my other new career as a budding cliff diver on a regular basis.’

  A steady buzz filled the room, the murmur of planned questions and she stood there like the queen, her hands steady now, her body relaxed. The din grew as the questions started and, stunned, he watched her answer each and every one, trying to process what he’d just heard.

  She was staying.

  With him.

  As the reality sank in he crossed the few feet between them and wrapped an arm around the woman he adored, something he should’ve done the moment she professed her love for him to the world.

  He covered the microphone with his other hand and bent to whisper in her ear. ‘I love you so much.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘You do?’

  She nodded, her impish smile making him want to sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless, crowd or not.

  ‘Yeah, you wouldn’t have ruined your precious reputation in front of these vultures if you didn’t.’

  ‘You’re awfully confident all of a sudden.’

  ‘Must’ve rubbed off from you.’

  He laughed and removed his hand from the microphone, bringing it to his lips.

  ‘One more question, folks.’

  Someone from the back shouted, ‘Will the two of you be getting married?’

  He expected her to backtrack or fob him off or sidestep the question. Instead, she covered his hand on the microphone with hers, eased it towards her and said, ‘Damn straight. I need to make an honest man out of him before he flings himself off the next cliff.’

  Then she kissed him: in front of reporters, in front of cameras, in front of the world and oblivious to the hooting, stomping crowd, he kissed her right back.

  When the roar died down and the paparazzi filtered out, they stepped off the stage and into the shadows of a column.

  ‘Hope that wasn’t too Notting Hill for you?’

  Dazed from the events of the last ten minutes, he shook his head.

  ‘What’s the suburb in London got to do with anything?’

  Her hand flew to cover her mouth.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Notting Hill? Best chick-flick movie ever? Hugh Grant? Julia Roberts?’

  He shrugged. ‘I’m an action guy. Give you one guess what kind of movies I watch.’

  She tapped her bottom lip, pretending to think. ‘Better add that to the to-do list: improve Roman’s movie preferences.’

  ‘What else is on the list?’

  ‘Oh, the usual stuff.’

  She ticked points off on her fingers. ‘Move in with Roman. Marry Roman. Live happily ever after.’

  ‘Good list.’

  He rubbed his thumb along her bottom lip, giving her a few more seconds’ talking before they got back to the kissing.

  ‘But you know I’m not going to give up extreme sports, right? And the paparazzi will always be there, no matter how many exclusives you give them?’

  Suddenly serious, she nodded. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to stop being you any more than I’d want you to expect that from me.’

  Sliding her hands around his waist, she hugged him tight.

  ‘As for the intrusive paparazzi, I can tolerate putting on an occasional front when in public with you. Want to know why?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I went a little crazy when they slandered me for a week straight after my divorce, but it made me realise something. Both my dad and my ex made me feel not good enough, like I was lacking in some way, so I felt like I always had to take a back seat, to let them answer the questions while I put up a reserved front all the time; it was exhausting. With you…’

  Her hands slid from his waist upwards, coming to rest on his shoulders as she stared at him with an adoration that made him feel as if he could climb mountains barefoot.

  ‘You make me feel special all the time. You accept me for who I am, you love me for me. Not my name, not what I can do for you, but for me, and that’s worth a few “public persona” moments.’

  ‘You’re incredible, you know that?’

  She nodded, a tear leaking from the corner of an eye. ‘I do now, thanks to you.’

  As her hands cradled his face and she looked deep into his eyes before broaching the small distance between them and kissing him, he knew right then that he didn’t need cameras whirring or flashes popping to feel appreciated.

  Love of a good woman accomplished it far better.

  EPILOGUE

  THE bride and groom hadn’t had a moment to themselves for the last month.

  Ava Gianakis had been on a whirlwind trip to London to accept her first award for a series of articles on the world’s highest peaks.

  Roman Gianakis had accompanied her, as she’d tied the articles in nicely to the launch of a new extreme sports school on Hamilton Island, the newest hot spot for adventure-seeking travellers.

  They’d met up briefly with Rex, who confessed to meddling in their love lives when he glimpsed sparks between them at their first meeting so arranged to have Ava follow Roman to Hamilton Island on an assignment.

  While in London, Ava and Roman had a small civil ceremony, witnessed by Roman’s mother, healthier and happier than she’d been in years after a long stint in rehab, and Ava’s parents, aiming for incognito in their casual gear.

  The best wedding gift? Estelle giving Roman a series of letters from his biological father.

  He’d been an English serviceman in the air force, a daredevil pilot who wouldn’t settle for anything or anyone. He’d died in the line of fire, doing what he loved best. Roman liked to think he’d inherited his dad’s best qualities.

  When the happy couple returned to Hamilton Island for their honeymoon, they renewed their vows on their favourite mountaintop.

  After the minister departed in a ribbon-strewn golf cart, Roman slid an arm around Ava’s waist and hugged her tight.

  ‘I’ve got a special surprise for you.’

  She wrinkled her nose. ‘If you expect me to ride down this mountain on the back of a motorbike in this dress, I’ll push you off the edge myself.’

  �
�Close your eyes.’

  She did as she was told and he pulled a large wrapped parcel from behind a nearby rock.

  ‘Hold out your arms.’

  She did and he placed the parcel in them, biting back a grin.

  ‘Go ahead, open it.’

  Her eyes snapped open, suspiciously focusing on the package before she ripped the string tying it.

  ‘This better not be what I think it is…’

  A crimson sliver of silk poked through the wrapping, followed by tangerine and indigo and brightest daffodil.

  Unable to stop the giggles bubbling up, she thrust the package back at him.

  ‘You know I’ve said no more skydiving a hundred times.’

  ‘But you tried the jump once. And the wake board. And the mountain bike. What’s a little jump between husband and wife?’

  ‘Tandem again?’

  Enjoying the characteristic teasing of their amazing relationship, Ava snapped her fingers. ‘But only if I get to be on top.’

  ‘Always, my love.’

  His lips grazed hers, the briefest of touches having the most profound effect as usual.

  ‘Though there is a problem.’

  Anticipating another excuse, he rolled his eyes. ‘What now?’

  An immense, indescribable joy bubbled up within her.

  ‘There must be some law against pregnant women skydiving?’

  He stilled, rigid with shock, before letting out an exuberant yell that must’ve been heard across the entire island.

  ‘We’re having a baby?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  The dampness in his eyes set off her waterworks as they held each other close and cried.

  When he eventually released her, Roman tipped her chin up, his love encompassing her and the baby.

  ‘I love you beyond words. You’ve given me so much.’ His hand splayed across her belly. ‘And now this.’

  Speechless, he rested his forehead against hers.

  ‘I love you too.’

  Her hand covered his. ‘Can you believe we’re going to be parents? Is there any bigger adrenalin rush?’

  He straightened, a tiny frown puckering his brow. ‘Hmm.’

  ‘What?’

  Jabbing a finger in the direction of the parachute, he deadpanned, ‘How small do you reckon they make those things?’

  She kissed him to shut him up, something she planned on doing for the rest of her life. The kissing, that was.

  He could coax her to dive the oceans or power down ski slopes, but nothing beat the buzz of loving this man and having him love her back.

  She’d found the ultimate adrenalin rush and she intended on getting her fix every day for the rest of their lives.

  * * * * *

  ISBN: 9781459220591

  Copyright © 2011 by Nicola Marsh

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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